


The Making of our King

by Shinrin_Yoku



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M, Manga & Anime, just a little drabble, not really a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinrin_Yoku/pseuds/Shinrin_Yoku
Summary: Yuuri and Conrad talk about various things while Conrad helps him dress for an event.
Relationships: Shibuya Yuuri/Conrart Weller
Kudos: 10





	The Making of our King

**Author's Note:**

> Coupling: Yuuri/Conrad
> 
> Word count: 977
> 
> Warnings: None

“There’s no need to stress, Heika.” 

“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one getting up on a stage to make a speech! And calling me Heika is not helping, Conrad!” 

“Forgive me, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri moves his hips in a experimental circle. “Are you sure these are the right pants? They seem awfully tight.” 

Conrad finishes fashioning the belt around the pants and stands up from his bent position. “They are the correct ones. I can loosen the belt a bit if you prefer.” 

He waves his hand with a sigh. “No, I’d rather them be tight over flashing the entire kingdom if they fell down.” 

Conrad hides a smile behind a tiny bow at the waist. “Right.” He walks over to the dresser and carefully takes out a pair of shoes from the bottom. Returning back to Yuuri, who was standing on a raised podium, he offers him his shoulder. “If you will step into these boots, Yuuri.” 

The young king uses Conrad as a buttress and steps wobbling into the high boots. “These are ridiculous. Not even most woman would wear boots that come up their legs this high.” 

Conrad tucks the black trousers into the boots. He marvels at just how lithe the young kings legs were. “They suit your long stature.” 

“If I wake up tomorrow unable to walk it’ll be because I broke my ankles wearing these things,” Yuuri said bitterly, releasing Conrad’s shoulder. He tests out the boots by taking a few cautious steps in place. 

“In that case I will carry you around and ensure you do not miss any of your duties.” 

Yuuri whines and watches Conrad return to get another article of clothing from the dresser. “Conrad whose side are you on?”

Conrad gives him a dazzling smile as he walks back. “Yours, of course. Here, please put on this vest.” 

He slips the vest on over his white button up shirt. “Sometimes I wish black wasn’t the color of royalty,” Yuuri says, observing himself in the mirror. 

Conrad works on buttoning up the vest. “Why’s that, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri looks at himself. He was only wearing two colors, if they could even be called that. His trousers and collared shirt were white, and everything else was black. “It’s just so dull sometimes. Compared to the magnificent red and golds kings from my world used to wear, I feel like a walking funeral.” 

Conrad finishes buttoning and smoothing the vest over Yuuri’s form. Straightening up, he observes his young king. “I think black fits you very well. It goes perfectly with your black hair and fair skin.” He leaves for a moment to fetch a sash and cuffs. They too, were black. 

Yuuri doesn’t reply but watches Conrad skillfully fashion the cuffs around his wrists. “How do you know how to do all this?” 

“I’ve grown up in the castle my whole life. My mother made sure I was completely educated in every single aspect of royalty.” He steps around Yuuri to his back and reaches around to tie a sash around his waist. 

“I guess that makes sense...” Yuuri muses. “But isn’t your main duty a soldier? Aren’t maids or dressers supposed to do this?” 

Conrad finishes fastening the sash and adjusts it across Yuuri’s chest. He pauses. “Are my services not adequate?” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen. He whirls around in a panic, nearly toppling to the side off the heel of his boot. “No! That’s not what I meant. I was just saying— well it’s kinda unusual for you— not that you do a bad job—“

Conrad laughs and Yuuri stops his rambling. “I’m merely messing with you. I understand what you mean.” He reaches up and smooths over Yuuri’s shirt, a slow fondness in his brushes. “I could get someone else to do it, but I don’t mind doing this for you.” He smiles up at Yuuri, hands still holding him in place. “Not at all.” 

Yuuri’s face lifts before he swiftly turns around. Conrad can still see the red tint on his ears. “Well then. I guess the problem is solved.” 

Conrad chuckles lightly. “I suppose it is.” He returns to the tall dresser once more and comes back with a magnificent black cape. There was a strip of white fur around the collar that made it all the more regal. 

With a sudden reverence that hadn’t been there before, Conrad crosses the room with measured steps. He doesn’t meet Yuuri’s eyes as he drapes the cape around the others shoulders. Yuuri looks down at his face as he fashions the front of the cloak around his neck. His expression was solemn and serious. 

Yuuri smiles. “Conrad.” 

Conrad looks up at him. “Hm?” 

“I may be a king, but I’m still Yuuri.” 

Two brown eyes blink blankly up at him. Then a tiny knowing smile breaks across his lips. “Right.” He steps back with a large step and looks Yuuri over. 

“Perhaps I’m overstepping my boundaries by saying this,” Conrad begins, watching Yuuri examine himself in the large mirror. The outfit suited his king unbelievably well. From the boots hugging his slender legs, the sash tied around his small waist, the puffed sleeves pronouncing his skinny form, the cloak sweeping out behind him, he was the essence of power and royalty. “But of all the kings that have adorned these clothes, you compliment them the best.” 

Yuuri turns his focus towards him. Conrad expects him to blush or become flustered. But he only gives an assuring smile, placing his forearm across his stomach. 

“Only because of my expert dresser.” 

The doors swing open then, a guard standing stiffly in the doorway. “They are ready for you, Heika!” 

Conrad places his arms at his side and bows deeply at the waist. His head points at Yuuri’s, their shining king of hope. 

“You are ready now, Heika.”


End file.
